


bluebloods

by swordboys



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, crack open some krill juice, horribly self-indulgent, multiple genres but mostly, pairs well with a couple cold ones with the boys, roughly one chapter per game episode, spoilers per ep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordboys/pseuds/swordboys
Summary: our beloved andromeda six crew picks up a stray: one green tilaari boy, dressed in mostly white,nicknamedblue.  a collection of tangentially-related oneshots reimagining or adding to scenes following the canon events of the VN.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. episode 2: teranium.exe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter reimagines the teranium bar scene in episode two if we'd been allowed to have a whole night out with the boys :o mild angst, at most. hopefully more bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway. this fic is truly just a writing exercise for myself, assuming i stick to it. so: deeply self-indulgent content ahead. warning applies to this chapter and all chapters to come... lmao but anyway, thank u for reading!

_i've got nothing to say,  
i'm in utter dismay,  
i've got nothing to say._

_..._

_i got nothing to give,  
got no reason to live.  
but i will fight to survive,  
i've got nothing to hide,  
wish i wasn't so shy._

* * *

The krill juice is absolutely disgusting, but Blue holds his expression neutral with some success. Then, realizes the effort isn't worth it. Throat burning and tongue lighting up with both bitter and fishy flavors, he grimaces and hisses, "This is awful."

Damon snorts, then tilts his head back as he pours the rest of his drink down his throat. Casual. "Should have listened to the space cowboy."

Blue considers this for a moment and purses his lips.

He waves a hand in the air and calls, "Bartender, could I have another one of these?"

Damon raises an eyebrow. "Who are you trying to impress? Because if it's me, you're not going to get anywhere by throwing up all over yourself later."

Blue smiles at the bartender and utters a quick "thank you" as another glass of vivid purple is handed to him. "Not you, don't worry." He takes a much smaller sip this time, and it doesn't taste any better.

Damon's eyes narrow. "You sure are comfortable spending other people's credits."

"Ooh. Right." Blue grins. "Thank you, Damon."

"No, I'm getting Cal to pay for this." He flicks a crumpled ball of napkin across the bar, to a seated blonde figure Blue hadn't noticed. He watches as Damon moves a few seats over to press up against Calderon's right, and after brief pause, gets up to follow him.

"—and the newbie is consuming all our money, now that he's already gone through our ship rations," Blue catches Damon complaining to Calderon. "You take care of it."

Blue cheerily raises his glass and clinks it against Calderon's. "Hey, Cal."

"I told you to call me Captain, or at the very least, Calderon."

"Yes, Captain. Thanks for the drinks."

Calderon rolls his eyes. Damon seems significantly more amused, now that the financial burden of Blue's conduct has shifted off of him. "You notice that there aren't many tilaari here, right? You might be playing it a bit fast and loose."

Blue scans the room again. _Huh_. No wonder he had felt so uneasy.

When he looks back at Calderon, his face is creased with exasperation and growing irritation. "Please tell me you have _some_ processing power up there."

Blue's smile turns sheepish and he shrugs. "Sorry, Captain." He drains the rest of the krill juice and places the empty glass over the counter, out of view.

The faintest beginnings of a buzz starts to rise to his face, a prickly extra layer of numbness settling over his nose. Turning in his chair to look out at the crowd, he surveys the writhing mass of shapes, dark and feverish and pulsing to some strange beat. He tries to pick out someone to observe, but it is impossible to keep track of a single figure among the sea of synchronous movement. Neither squinting nor tilting his head seems to help. He thinks of "processing power," _not something he needs to people-watch_ , and the half-thought recedes back into the haze of his mind. He tilts his head in the other direction, and the floor shifts again.

Someone stomps down on his foot. The music only then starts to register to him, less in his ears and more in an erratic thudding inside his ribcage. His foot is hot. He remembers his body is numb. Once in a while, a face or raised hand above the crowd is rendered sharp and in sallow detail when one catches a dim bar lamp at just the right angle; but otherwise, Blue is left with the impression of something too large, too sweaty, too close.

He'll take it. He has been cold since he woke up, and he wonders if this proximity will finally warm the hollow in his chest. He stretches the collar of his turtleneck over his mouth and feels the fabric heat up the lower half of his face as it absorbs his breath.

He blinks. A hand is on his shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, Blue. Question."

Cal pulls a little more insistently, and Blue swivels back to face him, pulling his collar back in place. "Hm?"

"We were just talking about how you could contribute to the ship, when we realized you weren't listening. Basically, if you're going to stick with the Andromeda, you're going to have to pull your weight. Do some tasks that we set out for you."

"In short: me or Cal?" Damon flashes a cocky smile. Blue takes a second to appreciate his cheekbones and the practiced angle at which Damon looks down at him. Especially impressive, considering Blue is pretty sure that he's taller than Damon when standing.

"Well, Captain's paying, right?"

He throws an arm over Calderon's shoulders that is immediately pushed off. Cal shoots him a glare.

Damon grumbles a sound of disgust. "Actually, you can have him."

"Great. Should we celebrate?" Blue's hand taps against the counter as it grasps at empty space, where a glass is conspicuously absent. "Bartender?"

Cal buries his face in his hands.

"Another krill juice, please. And"—he looks down at Cal's drink, an unidentifiable brown liquid—"another of whatever that is."

"Blue, no." Blue is somewhat surprised to see Damon and not Cal motioning at the bartender to stop.

"Don't worry about him, he's not paying." Blue tries to smile as winningly as he can. "Another krill juice for him too."

The bartender appears inclined to be generous with the distribution of alcohol, and rules in Blue's favor. She deftly pours out the orders, and three new drinks take their respective spots on the bar. "Cheers."

Reluctantly, two glasses are raised to meet his. "Thanks, Commander," adds Damon.

"Watch it, Reznor," replies Cal, but without any real edge. He fixes Blue with a look of guarded concern. "Blue. Please. What would you have done on Nos Vega if we'd just dropped you off here?"

Blue pulls Damon's dagger out from his jacket.

"You don't even know how to use that knife."

He shrugs and tests the weight of the blade in his hand. It does feel unfamiliar; but it's not so much like the feeling of a first encounter as it's like the feeling of meeting an old friend that has returned, diminished.

He adjusts his grip, and goes blank.

Muscle memory kicks in. He watches as his hand twirls the knife with ease, the handle and blade alternately dipping between each finger, a strange disconnect growing between his brain and the appendage at the end of his arm. His hand snaps the knife back into a firm grip.

He glances back up to Cal and Damon, the former of which appears confused if mildly impressed, while the latter seems mostly annoyed.

"Flashy move," says Damon. He frowns. "Might be useful if your enemy is the type to get intimidated by tricks any street rat could pull off."

Blue laughs, humorlessly. "Street rat. Got it."

"Not always about you, _princeling_." Sarcasm drips from the mock title, but is quickly replaced by exasperated concern. "I meant me. And what I also meant was that I don't want to have to babysit your overconfident—read, 'stupid'—ass. So, watch it."

He pauses, and Cal cuts in. "Yes, sure. What we're trying to say here is: please be careful, and don't leave our sight in this bar. We just want you to be safe, okay?"

Blue is certain that if he could still glow, his skin would currently be flushed bright.

Instead, his stomach is hot with alcohol and his body void. But his mind feels surprisingly unclouded, and he savors this brief clarity.

He nods and rests his head on his arms, crossed on top of the bar counter. "Yeah, I will," he says, looking from Cal's dark blue eyes to Damon's ice blue ones. There could have been so many worse ways to awaken, and in far worse company. He can be careful, for tonight at least.

He takes a deep breath and smiles. "Tell me more about you guys," he adds, and is warmed over the fire of their words.

* * *

_i'd like to watch, i'd like to read;  
i'd like a part, i'd like the lead._

_but i've got nothing to say,  
i've got nothing to say,  
i've got nothing to say,  
i've got nothing to say._

_i've got nothing to give,  
got no reason to live.  
oh, i'll kill to survive,  
i've got nothing to hide,  
wish I wasn't so shy._

**\- ask me anything, the strokes**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just... really want to make blue a sword boy, ex-hitman. i'll brute force it somehow into the a6 plot, missing prince or not, dont mind me.


	2. episode 2.5: star crossed lovers (valentine's day special)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mild spoilers for the valentine's day special (and going forward, spoilers in each chapter for the game episode mentioned in the fic chapter name)!
> 
> tl;dr: on bash's route, you lose a ~~rigged~~ bet against bash and have to tell the story your first kiss... and the bash x ryona hints continue. we see u, devs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy release of chapter 3! ...and heres something flirty? shippy? for chapter 2.5?

_love, you're a strange fella',  
show eve your mark and let her be.  
love, you're a strange fella',  
won't you leave your mark on me?_

* * *

Teranium, wreathed in festively colored smoke and alive with the cries of delighted children, is a much different place than how it first appeared at night. Every nook and cranny that once seemed to hide malicious figures in shadow is now illuminated to reveal carts of flowers and heart-shaped confectioneries. When Blue looks around now, he can only see couples and families and friends, people who joyously carve their homes into the inhospitable desert with their celebration.

He turns to Bash, who is looking at him expectantly, his expression both curious and mischievous. "So?"

Blue stares blankly at Bash's waggling eyebrows until— _o_ _h, right._ His first kiss.

Well. It seems he owes Bash a story, and he is mostly a man of his word. He supposes he could try to fabricate something, but his thoughts never seem to run quite fast enough to keep up with any sort of lie. No relevant memories have conveniently resurfaced in the past minute either.

He smiles wryly and runs his tongue over his lower lip. It is very unfortunate (for him) that Bash finessed his way into winning the bet over who would spill their romantic backstory—he would have much preferred to hear about Bash's Festival of Valen's kiss instead of trying to dream up an experience of his own. Bash does look delighted though, although he can't tell whether it is because he gets to keep his secrets for a little while longer, or because of his anticipation of another laughably bad lie from Blue.

His gaze flickers downwards and for a second, he considers leaning down and pressing his lips to Bash's instead.

 _I think it went something like that_ , maybe.

He grins. Definitely an option that avoids the trouble of too much talking. And going in for a second first kiss at a Festival of Valen—could be fun, assuming Bash doesn't elbow him in the stomach for his teasing.

Bash's voice interrupts that particular train of thought. "Your first kiss was that good?" His finger points with mock resentment at the smirk Blue hadn't realized was spreading across his own face.

Change of plans then: "Obviously." He plays along, searching his brain for a suitable platitude. "Kissed, uh, an angel."

Blue drops his grin though when he notices Bash immediately stiffen up at his choice of words, the smile slipping from his face. He opens his mouth, as if to speak, but then seems to think better of it. Blue is left in bewildered silence until Bash shrugs and scratches at the back of his neck and adds with strained cheer, "If that's your type, I guess." He clears his throat, and the smile is back. "Nice."

...Right, Blue forgets that there's a literal angel on board the Andromeda. Or literal in Bash's eyes, at least, which are now darkened under furrowed brows. He is suddenly remembering Bash's reverent pauses when Blue had asked him about Ryona on his first day on the ship, and his chagrin when Blue had chosen to leave their casino table to take a breather outside the Arc, with only other tilaari around. And also the six times he managed to poke his head into Ryona's office during Blue's checkups with her in about as many days, and the one time Aya dragged him out with a knowing if annoyed smile, citing something about "the crew needs a mechanic, not another loverboy."

 _Ah._ So yes, he might have been a bit slow on the uptake.

Bash is still uncharacteristically subdued when he asks, "So, where did this 'first kiss' happen?"

"I mean, obviously," he says, his mind still churning as he waves his right pointer finger around with no real target. "You know."

A thought strikes him.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"What?"

"Come on." He steps closer to Bash and pulls him into a conspiratorial huddle, grinning as he asks, "What do _you_ think a kiss with an angel would be like?"

The beginnings of a blush appear on Bash's face as he slips out of Blue's grasp. "Hey, you're the one that lost the bet."

"New bet then: first one that tells the story of their purely hypothetical angel kiss wins." He pauses, positive he can hear Bash's mechanical eye practically whirring inside its socket. "The bluer the better."

The blush is now definitely in full bloom, and for once, Bash seems at a momentary loss for words.

 _Cute._ He waits for Bash to start, but it seems that his competitive streak needs a bit more fuel.

"My. Kiss. With. An. Angel," Blue starts, drawing out every word and breath. "Well."

Bash gives him nothing. Blue adds, "It was good, obviously."

"I think it happened at..."

Even looking around the plentiful romantic festivities around him for the second time, he is still drawing a blank. Saying _the medic bay_ , would be a bad choice, right?

"Well, when I was—"

 _Hm_.

"Last week, when I was—"

He stops again.

Finally, Bash: "If you add another 'obviously' in there, I just might believe you."

Blue turns back to Bash, who has (unfortunately) cooled down the flush on his cheeks, and is now looking at him with an amused twist to his lips. "That kind of tell is definitely going to catch up to you some day."

Blue holds his hands up in surrender. "You try then."

"The _Bluer_ the better, right?"

Blue blinks, confused by the implication in Bash's voice. "Yeah?"

He's pretty sure Bash is just barely holding in a laugh, under his confident expression. "You got it, Blue."

Possibly directed at him.

"Blue."

Blue's eyes widen. "No, wait, I mean 'blue' as in Ry—"

Metallic fingers over his mouth stifle the rest of Blue's sentence as Bash fixes him with a look of shocked amusement. "Woah, I get it—you know. You don't have to shout it out in public."

He removes his hand and takes a step back, an embarrassed laugh escaping him this time. Blue stays in place, still processing his surprise at _actually guessing correctly_ and Bash's mildly flirty attempt to tilt the scales back in his favor. Although he guesses he should have expected the latter, after all.

Bash sighs exaggeratedly as he kicks at the sand on the ground. "Ah, come on. Not a fair trade at all." He waves in the general direction of Blue's face. "You didn't even do the nice little glowy tilaari thing for me."

"Glowy thing?"

Bash gestures to his own face, miming little waves over his skin. "You know. The glow you get when you have a strong emotion. Haven't caught you slipping up yet."

"Oh, that." Blue smiles. "Well, try me again."

"I dunno', it kind of seems like maybe I won't have any luck getting it out of you." Bash pouts and finds a bench to sit on, mulling over the issue. Blue takes the seat next to his and uses his shoulder as an armrest. "But, maybe remembering your first kiss might do the trick."

The mischievous look back in his eyes, he flexes the shoulder Blue is now resting his head upon to get his attention.

"Fine, fine. No promises."

He closes his eyes and tries to set the scene: jet black hair, fumbling in darkness, blue eyes, broad daylight, callused hands. A formless silhouette lurks on the backs of his eyelids, but no solid outline emerges from the swirl of colors. A button nose, long or hair cropped short, soft skin—nothing sticks.

There is an underlying pang in his chest that keeps him wondering at what might be lost, but he's dismissed far more than nameless aches before, and for less reason. He's suddenly exhausted.

"I don't think I glow," he finally says, eyes still shut in daydream.

He feels Bash shift underneath him. "Really?"

He expects a barrage of questions, but instead gets a tense pause. Then: "You tired?"

He considers opening his eyes.

"Mm." He has to get up. He sits up straight and shields his eyes from a world that's already grown too bright in his minute of respite. "When's the laundry going to be done?"

"We've still got time. But you can head back first, I can handle two bags of laundry."

"I'm good, thanks. Plus, if I leave, then you've as good as forfeited the bet." Blue rises to his feet and dusts off his pants. "Loser."

Bash jumps up. "Hey, I guessed the number you were thinking of!"

"Please, you know I'm talking about Ry—"

Unfortunately, Blue does not manage to break Bash's win streak.

* * *

_but, love, you're a strange fella',  
show eve your mark and let her be.  
may as well be forever,  
love, won't you come and punish me?_

**\- never seen such good things, devendra banhart**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will probably try to write something, even if short, for each chapter (from 2 onwards)! thank u to the devs for the inspo to write ~1000 words for every ~10000+ they put out.
> 
> now off to play all the rest of the chapter 3 paths, even if they pain me.. :')

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to find me at [my tumblr](https://aureliansgalley.tumblr.com/).


End file.
